An Amicable Grant?
by sydneysages
Summary: Because a divorce between two of the most stubborn Morganville residents, Claire and Myrnin, was never going to go simply, was it?


The Morganville Court Room was stiflingly hot on the mid-December Wednesday that was allocated to divorce hearings. Almost from the moment she entered the room, Claire was sweating, regretting her decision to wear a sleeveless top; the material of her blazer was clinging to her arms, making the already unpleasant experience of a divorce that little bit worse.

To her right sat Amelie, her style unchanged in the fifteen years Claire had known her, and to _her_ right sat Oliver, who Claire secretly expected was happy about the entire situation. In a case involving the dissolution of a marriage between a vampire and a human, no human lawyer was willing to take Claire's case, leaving her with no choice but to go to Oliver for representation. He had all too willingly obliged, a decision most likely made due to the fact that he would have an excuse to legally discredit Myrnin.

"Are you quite certain that this is the path you desire to take?" Amelie asked Claire, her tone almost…motherly. Not quite, Claire was certain that Amelie had never had taken Parenting 101, but it was closer to mothering than it was to a friend. "I fear that if you decide that divorce was too…extreme, you will not be able to reconsider in the future."

Claire wasn't surprised that Amelie was, even at this late hour, trying to prevent the divorce between her oldest friend and her most acclaimed scientist. It was ironic, at least in Claire's eyes, that Amelie was trying to stop the breaking up of a marriage she had tried so desperately to prevent—but that was Amelie for you. Always trying to get the best outcome of every situation for herself.

"Amelie, we've been separated for two months, and the last mediation session we had resulted in a damages bill of over twenty thousand dollars. I really don't think I'm going to change my mind." Claire was slightly more forceful than she had intended to be, but resisted tacking a 'sorry' onto the end. She was older, wiser, than she had been as a teenager; she realised now she didn't have to be sorry for disagreeing with Amelie's opinion.

Unsurprisingly, Oliver supported Claire. "She has recognised her mistake in marrying the incompetent moron, Amelie, do not try and change her mind. She has every right to make her own decisions."

Sighing a little, Amelie rose from her seat and walked halfway across the room, in order to settle herself in the judge's chair. "I will be neutral from this point on, though I must first register my disappointment at the end of this marriage. Nonetheless, my opinion will not affect my impartiality in terms of the division of assets and the like."

The large, square clock behind Amelie's head chimed loudly, its musical peal indicating that it was now one pm—the start of the divorce hearing. However, there was a slight problem…

"I'm going to kill him," Claire muttered, closing her eyes and resting her head against the headrest of her seat. "I'm going to strap him down, find a silver stake, and shove it through his backside."

An undeniable snort escaped Oliver before he composed himself and picked up the sheaf of papers that had until that point been situated upon the top of the table. "I would pay a great deal to witness that. However, I get the dreadful feeling that he is merely late to create an entrance. He will be here in a few moments—though, Founder, I would like to raise the point here that Myrnin is unreliable and has no concept of time management, and thus should not be given anything which requires maintenance." As Oliver addressed Amelie, his tone changed, becoming more formal and lawyer-like.

When Claire had discovered that Oliver had been, at one point between being Lord Protector and a coffee shop owner, a lawyer, she had immediately requested his assistance in her case for divorce. It was an unprecedented request; no human-vampire marriage had ever ended—at least not legally, anyway—and it was unclear who would get the 'upper hand' in this newly equal Morganville. Would the vampire get the goods, or would the human? Or would it be a harmonious divorce where both parties accepted a fifty-fifty division?

From the moment Claire had told Myrnin she wanted a divorce after seven years of marriage, however, she became aware that it would not be an easy divorce. Her temperamental, bossy, occasionally controlling, husband decided to hold all of her recent research to ransom; he said he would only give it back if she said she wouldn't divorce him.

That just made her even more convinced to divorce him.

It wasn't that she didn't love him anymore—she loved him more than she had loved anyone before, even Shane, and she doubted she would find someone who understood her as much as he did ever again. It was just…everything else. Things that had originally only irritated her a little—such as his inability to do anything around the house, his presumption that his age made him better than her at science, and the fact that he _always_ made himself the chief beneficiary of all the grants Claire had applied for—grated on her more and more. When they were combined with his slightly sexist outlook on aspects of life—despite his closest friend being one of the most important people, ever—Myrnin and Claire were powder kegs waiting to blow.

They _had_ been happy, though. For the years that they had been together before marrying, they were insanely happy: they complimented each other in the laboratory brilliantly, the sex was awesome, and they made the other a better person. When Amelie had done her utmost to stop them marrying, it had only united them more—though now, looking back, Claire realised that most of what Amelie had said was right. They were each other's worst enemies, particularly as she was still human.

Claire opened her eyes and looked at the clock, startled to realise her trip down memory lane had taken almost ten minutes—and her soon-to-be ex-husband was still not present.

Oliver had risen and was stood in front of Amelie, their heads bent close together as they discussed whatever pressing matter it was. Part of Claire hoped that it was him trying to make Amelie give Claire everything she wanted—the house, the newest of the equipment in the laboratory, and custody over the three pet chickens and two cats—but she knew it wouldn't be that easy. Despite professing her neutrality, Amelie wasn't going to let this marriage end without both parties getting a say in the matter.

A loud _boom_ shocked Claire, causing her to jump a little in her seat and wince at the ear-splitting noise. It continued at a steady rhythm, seeming to get louder with each _boom_, and only as the doors flew open did Claire realise it was a drum.

And the owner of the drum? Noone other than Myrnin.

"Of fucking course," she muttered, placing her head in her hands. "He _has_ to make an entrance." She raised her voice, despite her head being essentially on the table. "I want the drum as well—and I want his head to go through it."

The beating stopped all of a sudden, as the drum's owner jumped—literally—into the chair beside Claire.

"Good afternoon, wife," Myrnin said, his tone cold, yet sorrowful. "I suppose this farce of a proceeding must begin."

Claire lifted her head just in time to see Amelie roll her eyes, and Oliver take a step into the centre of the court room. Her lawyer really had dressed the part, complete with a wig and a cloak, his outfit sharper than anything Claire had ever seen him wear.

"I believe you will discover that _Amelie_ decides when the proceedings begin, dog, not yourself—something you would have discovered if you had arrived on time." Oliver's tone was cold; despite the attempts to make amends on both sides, his and Myrnin's relationship had only worsened over the years. "Now, if you would please step away from my client and seat yourself on the opposite bench: it is court protocol, after all."

Once again, Amelie rolled her eyes. "Oliver, you have just stated that I am in charge—allow me to make the decisions in this case. However, you have a point; Myrnin, move immediately."

Claire didn't turn to watch Myrnin move, but she could tell he did so reluctantly; he moved slowly, and when he pushed his chair in, he did it excruciatingly slowly, so that it made a horrendous screeching noise along the floor.

Amelie's voice was colder, this time. "Faster, Myrnin, I do not have all day. And if you insist on making such a racket, please be aware that I will not retain my impartiality, and will pass everything onto the lady in the centre of the court."

"Apologies, my lady, I merely desired to make an entrance to remind the three of you that I do actually exist—and that decisions cannot always be made without me being here." Myrnin's voice betrayed his inner childishness—the childishness that had _really_ started to irritate Claire when he prioritised admin work over helping her recuperate after an attempted assassination attempt. Not that she was still holding a grudge…

Noone commented on his words, and at that point, the meeting started proper. Firstly, Amelie read through a list of the equitable items the couple owned, before reading the submitted requests made by both Claire and Myrnin. Unsurprisingly, there was a fair deal of crossover; whilst Myrnin didn't want the house, he wanted every single bit of scientific equipment they owned, exclusive rights to Amelie's research and development fund, _and _the pets. Claire wanted the house, half the money from Amelie, half the equipment and the pets—the only thing she was willing to give up was Amelie's funding.

Somehow, they made it through the equipment haggling without _too_ much difficulty. There was only one moment when Myrnin threatened to hang himself if he didn't get something, and only one time did Oliver lose his temper—impressive, considering how many times he had lost his temper in his discussion sessions with Claire. Amelie had only had to issue fifteen warnings about the type of language the three were using to describe one another, and only once did Claire threaten to sack Oliver when he seemed willing to let Myrnin have all the scientific equipment besides a mass spectrometer.

Then it came to the pets.

"I will not negotiate on losing my chickens or the cats," Myrnin said firmly, sounding semi-sane.

"Myrnin, when was the last time you fed them?" Claire snapped, turning to face him directly for the first time. "When did you last cuddle Milly, or actually get the eggs the chickens laid? Why do you want to take the few things that have made me happy over the last few months?"

He lost it at that. "And what did I do, Claire? I did everything I could to make you happy, I even attended idiotic counselling sessions, and yet you threw it all back at me, kicking me out so that you could live alone. I did everything, and nothing was good enough. Those animals made me happy when you did not, and I feel as though I would be victimised if you stole them from me."

It was almost comical the way that Claire stood up at that point, knocking her chair over in the process as she tried to race across the room towards Myrnin. Only Oliver's tight grip on her arm stopped her from throttling the man she had once professed to never leave. "Why is it _always_ about you? It has been since the wedding—no, I don't want to marry there, I don't like it; no I don't like that colour for the walls, no I don't want you to be successful because then I don't look good! You don't think about anyone but yourself, and you only want the pets because you think that it'll mean you've won! Tell me the last time you cared about them, or anything you've fought me over today, because if you can name one example then I'll give up now. But I honestly don't think you can. You're selfish, Myrnin, and that's the main reason we've not worked out."

"And what about your neediness? You recognised that when we married, it wouldn't be the most…conventional of relationships. Science will always come first—because whenever I _did_ anything, you said it was wrong." Myrnin's tone was sharp, but defeated almost—it was as if he realised he didn't really have a leg to stand on. "And I have done a _lot_ for those animals, and for you. You just are too stubborn to recognise that you have been provided for."

It must have been obvious that Claire was incandescent with rage, for Amelie raised a hand, and commanded that the three of them sit down and take a five minute break. That wasn't good enough for Claire, though.

"Oliver," she said through gritted teeth, white spots appearing in her vision. "If you don't let me go and throttle him, I'll stake you and then stake him too. Because I don't think that the moron realises that I don't _need_ to be provided for—I never have done. I'm as successful as he is, if not more so, and if anything, _I_ have looked after him, not the other way around. He hasn't done anything but cause me problems for the last ten years—more, actually. He hasn't stopped causing me problems since I discovered his existence.

"I wish he had never beaten the disease."

Only a very small part of Claire regretted saying that she wished he had succumbed to madness—the rest of her, more furious than Myrnin had ever made her before, didn't care and never wanted to see him again after this eventful day.

"That is _enough_!" Amelie called out, her voice ringing out through the silence which seemed heavier than ever after Claire's outburst.

Before Claire's eyes, Myrnin appeared to shrink; it was as if the fight had gone out of him, as if he had given up on everything after her rant—as if he had given up on fighting her. Claire knew him too well, though; she knew this was an act to try and make Amelie give him what he wanted. She had fallen for it too many times before she realised that he was manipulative, and would use anything—or anyone—to get what he wanted.

After five minutes of silence broken only by whispering between Claire and Oliver, the hearing resumed. "Does either side have anything further they desire to point out before I make my ruling regarding your…pets?" Amelie asked, her tone making it clear she did not want a repeat of the last few minutes of discussion.

Oliver rose to speak for Claire, a slight smile on his face. "My client would like to remind the judge of the circumstances which prompted her decision to sue for divorce; it forms the basis of our argument for Claire to take custody of the animals.

"My client was at home in the lounge, watching a television programme, when she smelled smoke. She thought it was nothing, given her husband's tendency to set things on fire when working alone, but as time progressed, the smell became stronger. It was only after fifteen minutes that she realised that there must be a fire.

"At this point, she went to investigate. When entering the laboratory, she discovered her husband standing with piles of her research in his hands, being thrown into the fire. On the other side of the flames—in a locked cage—were their five animals, all of which were fighting to get away from the threat to their lives. Only Claire's actions saved their lives—and all Myrnin had to say was that it was an experiment.

"My client and I believe this is a clear example of why Myrnin ought not to have custody of anything that could possibly require his attention. It is our personal opinion that he should not have access to anything or anyone until he has learnt enough basic morality to be considered a human being."

A sombre tone fell across the room as Oliver finished speaking. A sly look to the left by Claire allowed her to see the murderous rage upon Myrnin's face.

Seconds later, she didn't have to turn to look at him; he was in front of her, his face a priceless mixture of anger and sadness—a combination she had last seen when he had interrupted the final fight between herself and Shane. It was perhaps fitting that the final time she would see him (because after the shambles of this divorce, amicable research was not going to happen) he was wearing the same expression as the one he wore when she realised she truly loved him.

"I am deeply sorry for my actions, my dear Claire. Regardless of what you must think, I do love you—and our life together—and I am truly saddened that our time together has come to an end. I will mourn you for the rest of my days."

At this point, he turned to Amelie. "Give her everything. I don't care any longer. I am leaving town and I will not return until she is dead. Good day."

And with that, the most remarkable divorce in Morganville's history ended.

(Ten years later, they were married again, living in Los Angeles, and had adopted a child. When asking Amelie to officiate the wedding, Claire said that she felt Myrnin had learned enough about morality to pass her test, and no longer was as self-centred.)


End file.
